


Unbelievable, That we made it here

by JenicaKing



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: ACAB, Bludhaven Police Department, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Carrying, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), No 7. I’VE GOT YOU, Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Past Dick Grayson/Wally West, Police Brutality, Racism, Romani Dick Grayson, Whumptober 2020, and mostly only mentioned, but we're gonna go with, is all assholes, they're cops though, this could tbh fit a few
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenicaKing/pseuds/JenicaKing
Summary: Dick Grayson isn't popular with the BPD, but it isn't until he's late coming home, and Joey has to go find him, that any of them realise just how unpopular.No 7. I’VE GOT YOUSupport| Carrying | Enemy to CaretakerTitle from Big Man by IAMX
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Joseph Wilson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been living with this thought in my head for a long ass time. So I'm using whumptober as an excuse. It's not light or fun but? Eh  
> Also Dick and Joey deserve more love and more fics and I will do it myself if I have to

Sometimes Joey really loved Dick’s stick-to-itiveness. It was one of the, admittedly many, things that made him such a hero to so many people. Without it he would never have been Robin, he wouldn’t have created the Titans, wouldn’t have become Nightwing. But also, without it he wouldn’t still be pretending that being a cop in Blüdhaven was in any way remotely good for him or anyone.

He played it down a lot around Joey, but the toxicity was wearing on him. It was something of a mystery as to why he’d thought it was ever a good idea. He’d seen enough terrible cops, enough corruption to know that he couldn’t maverick his way through and just arrest all the bad cops and make it okay again. He understood the systematic nature of the problem, Joey _knew_ he did. So he didn’t really buy Dick’s excuse that he wanted to help people. He knew it was earnest. But he also knew that they both knew there were better ways.

It was a whole mess. But it wasn’t one that he was always willing to get into an argument over again. Even though they never did anything about the racism he dealt with constantly. Even though he wasn’t comfortable telling anyone but Amy about their relationship for fear of _more_ harassment. Even though they had suspended him for actually deescalating a situation successfully. They’d cited him for failing to follow orders. The orders were to fire on a teenager, but what did that matter. Two weeks without pay for not shooting a child. He knew that Amy had kicked up a fuss, they’d demoted her again to prove a point. Dick had been livid. He still was, really. At least he still had patrol, but Joey hated it when he went out angry. It was dangerous to fight angry. He’d try to talk him into taking a break tonight when he got home.

Joey frowned, he should be home by now. He was only going out to get food. He stopped painting. Sometimes he could get absorbed in it, so he might not have noticed Dick getting home. He sighed and stretched and wandered into the main room of their three room apartment. Dick wasn’t there. His keys and jacket weren’t there either and something coiled in Joey’s gut. He knew how long it took Dick to get them dinner. It was not this long. He texted him.

The mass coiled tighter when he didn’t respond instantly. He was always so good about responding to Joey. He hit the call button. It wasn’t ideal, but they _could_ communicate through phone calls. Even if it had Joey tapping out morse code with the keypad and it took forever. It was better than nothing. Or it would be if Dick picked up. Even when he was patrolling he picked up if Joey called him. Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

He grabbed his coat and headed out the door trying to convince himself it was nothing. That Dick had gotten distracted with something, probably helping someone and his phone was just on silent. Or he’d left it somewhere. Or something. He took the stairs two at a time at least as he rushed out of the building. Searching for a bat took an annoyingly long time. Joey had learnt a long time ago that you couldn’t just toss a glance into an alleyway and move on. You had to check fire escapes and holes in the walls and any possible space that could fit them.

It was hard to describe the sheer fucking terror that flooded him when he saw Dick’s crumpled body in the back of an alley. The harsh shattered wheeze that was the closest he could ever get to a scream tore from his throat as he bolted over to him. He slid over on his knees. He felt the ground do its best to tear up his jeans, felt damp soak in that he really hoped was alley water and not–

Dick looked bad. Very bad. His face was swollen and bleeding and if Joey hadn’t known him so well he may not even have recognised him. There was blood on his shirt and his jacket and a small groan escaped him when Joey tried to manoeuvre him into a less contorted position cradling his head in his lap. Shaking fingers pressed to his neck and he felt himself breathe for the first time since he’d found him at the weak, thready pulse under his fingertips. He stroked bloody hair from his face and tried to calm down enough to stop crying. Crying wouldn’t help Dick now.

He needed to call someone. But… nine one one wouldn’t help them. Joey couldn't talk to them and they’d send the cops. Almost all of whom hated Dick. But he was barely breathing. He could call the Titans, or the League. Dick had their communicators on him at all times. But he was a civilian now. If this was targeted, that would be suspicious.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Britney Spears blaring from nearby. Dick's phone. He scrabbled as best he could to grab it without jostling Dick getting his hands on it just as ‘Amy’ vanished from the newly cracked screen.

He let himself into the the device with shaking fingers, tried to ignore the blood he was leaving on the glass. He opened the text conversation with her, typing quickly,

|Dick's in trouble.

Please help

\- Joey|

He swiped at his eyes with the back of the hand holding the phone, his free one flitting over Dick's face, wiping away blood that kept reappearing.

He jumped when the reply came in.

_|Where are you?|_

|four alleys from home. To the south|

|Please hurry|

He set the phone down, tore a long strip off the bottom of his shirt. He tried to find where Dick was bleeding and keep pressure on it. When he pressed on his temple, Dick stirred, groaning and coughing wetly. Joey fought back a sob and prayed for Amy to arrive soon.

He managed not to jump when Amy’s car squealed to a stop at the mouth of the street. He heard her work boots pounding on the pavement towards them, “Jesus Christ.” She breathed, dropping down next to him. “Oh Rookie…” She cleared her throat, “Pulse?”

Joey nodded, ‘But it’s weak and–’ his hands stilled at her uncomprehending face.

She winced, “Sorry. We need to get him to a hospital. Help me get him to the car?”

He nodded again shifted Dick off his lap gently before sweeping him up bridal style and being, for once, thankful to have inherited something of his father’s raw stature. If Amy was surprised by the move she didn’t show it. She open the car door and he carefully eased Dick inside, sliding in beside him to try and stop him from jostling. Amy took off towards the closest hospital as fast as she could without drawing attention to them. Which was still fairly fast because… well, Blüdhaven.

Joey couldn’t stop fussing over Dick, he was so still. He’d seen him this still, this injured before. Of course he had. But that was in costume. It felt wrong to see him like this in civvies. He reached for his hand, just hoping quietly that Dick would squeeze his hand back. His fingers met cloth, rather than skin and Joey pulled something free, but before he could look at it properly Amy pulled into the ambulance bay, “Go. I’ll meet you inside.”

Joey thanked her quickly, doing his best to get Dick out of the car as gently as he could. It took him a moment to get somebody’s attention once he got inside because, again, Blüdhaven. The emergency room was a complete nightmare and Joey couldn’t exactly call out. Dick was frighteningly limp in his arms and he could only just feel him breathing and he needed someone to help them and _god_ he wanted to scream.

“Sir, over here. What happened?” An orderly, or a nurse, or- someone in scrubs gestured him over. He followed, but floundered, he was still holding Dick and he couldn’t talk. The woman seemed to know that he couldn’t respond even if she didn’t know why. She got him to follow her to a gurney where he could rest Dick.

He sighed in relief, signing rapidly, ‘I found him near our apartment, I don’t know what happened. Please. He’s breathing but it sounds wet and he has a head wound and–’

She put a hand up, “Sir, you need to slow down. Do you have a phone you can use to talk?”

If he could make a noise he was pretty sure there’d he a high pitched keening, but he nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket and opened his text-to-speech app, relaying the information that way.

She nodded, “Okay, and how do you know him?”

He typed quickly, _“I’m his boyfriend.”_

Her face took on a pitying look and it struck him that he probably wasn’t the first man to bring his badly beaten boyfriend to the emergency room at Blüdhaven General. “I need to know his name and any medication allergies he might have.”

Joey nodded, _“Dick Grayson and none.”_

“You're sure?” when he confirmed she nodded primly. “Okay, I’m gonna get him the help he needs, you need to fill out this and wait here, Okay? When you’re done take it to the front desk and they'll tell you what to do.”

He took the ordered clipboard and nodded. He smoothed down Dick's hair before moving to find a seat as she wheeled him away. He fidgeted, filling in the paperwork was easy enough, but he still fidgeted the entire time. He should tell someone, Dick's family, or the Titans. He smiled softly, hearing Dick’s irate _The Titans_ are _my family_ in the back of his mind. He stops halfway through a word and takes out his phone, opening the weird pseudo-facebook that the League had created for the hero community. He fired off a message to the group chat, it was pretty much the original five titans plus Joey, Wally, and Roy.

|Dick's in hospital|

He rests the device on his thigh and fills in a couple more sections of paperwork before he looks at it again. It's mostly everyone shouting for clarification and he struggles for something he can say that won't result in every one of them dropping everything to rush over.

|Don't have a lot of info yet. I found him outside our apartment in pretty bad shape|

|I'll tell you more when I know more, please don't rush over here, the er is crowded enough without the Titans, all we can do rn is wait anyway|

He could feel the reluctance in their replies, but they agreed to wait. He sighed, finished filling out the sheet. He waved to Amy when he saw her and gave her a grim smile when she came over. He gestured to the front desk with the clipboard and he thought he saw something flash across her face but it was gone before he could be sure.

“Let’s go then.” She nodded, forcing a path through the people to the desk. Joey gave the woman at the desk the paperwork and she directed them to a surgical waiting room and he wanted to throw up. Amy saw him messaging the group chat, a succinct update – the replies to which he ignored – and gestured to the phone in his hands, “His family?”

Joey flicked his eyes to her, shook his head. He probably should message Bruce, or Alfred, more likely. But that would result in Bruce storming up to the hospital no matter what he said and then he and Dick would get in a fight the moment Dick became conscious and that would be terrible for both of them. Joey would at least be waiting until he had something to actually _tell_ them. He mouthed ‘Friends’ at her and tucked his phone into his pocket. He felt a lump of fabric in his pocket and pulled it out. it was whatever had been in Dick’s hand. It was navy blue and bloody and he unfurled it gingerly.

He was getting tired of feeling suddenly cold. But that didn’t stop it when he realised what it was. He’d seen it every day for months now, after all. It was a shoulder patch from a Blüdhaven PD uniform. Dick hadn’t worn his uniform since he all but tore it off the day they suspended him. There was only one way he could’ve had this in his hand.

“Joey? What’s that?” Amy asked softly.

He held it out to her, keeping his stinging eyes on the glaring off-white linoleum. She swore quietly. Then more loudly. Joey looked up at her and returned his gaze with a deeply apologetic one, “We’ll never prove it.”

He scowled and pulled his phone out again, _“You know who it was. Don’t you.”_

“We will never prove it, Joey.” She said again.

He stood up, _“It was them. Cross and whoever. The ones who make his life hell.”_

“Joey.” She put her hands on his arms, “We. Will. Never. Prove it. Grayson could wake up in ten minutes and give a goddamn perfect account of who it was and when and how, and it wouldn’t mean _shit_. They will close ranks.”

He pressed his face into his hands and sat back down.

She sighed and sat next to him, “I’m sorry, Joey.”

‘It’s not fair.’ He switched to signing, even though he knew she didn’t understand. ‘It’s not fair. It’s not–’ his hands were shaking, so he buried his face in them. Amy clapped a hand on his shoulder and they stayed like that for a while.

Another woman in scrubs came through the door and they both stood, she looked at the pair of them, “Dick Grayson?” she looked tired and pulled a tight expression when they nodded, “We’ve stabilised him,” Joey collapsed back into the chair, “But he’s not out of the woods yet.” She cautioned and Joey wasn’t surprised but he didn’t have enough energy to do anything.

He heard Amy ask, “Can we see him?”

“He’s in intensive care, it may be a bit of a shock, and he’s not awake. But if you’re quiet…”

Joey huffed a laugh before he could stop himself, ‘Not a problem.’

“I think we’ll be fine on that front.” Amy said simply.

The doctor told them where he was and Joey started moving almost immediately. He could hear Amy and the doctor following him, but his focus was entirely on seeing Dick as soon as possible. He scanned the wall signage until he found Dick’s bed and for a second he forgot how to breathe. His brain supplied the names of several of the machines that surrounded him, the intracranial pressure monitor, the arterial line, the chest tubes, the collection of other lines and tubes and beeping monitors, he kept coming back to the ventilator though. He pressed a hand over his mouth, just barely making it to the shitty plastic chair next to the bed before his legs gave out.

“Jesus…” Amy said quietly behind him.

“Like I said, he’s stable at the moment, but there’s not a lot else we can do right now.” The doctor said, “It might be a good idea to call any family he has.” Joey nodded absently, taking his hand gingerly, careful of the wires and tubes. “And I have to ask if you know what happened, or you want the police involved.”

He scoffed, still looking at Dick’s fingers.

“We’ve got it handled, thank you though.” Amy said. The doctor left and she put a hand on his shoulder. He raised his eyes to Dick’s face and blinked back tears. The blood had been washed off, and the bruises and swelling and abrasions were so painfully stark on his skin. He choked back a sob, brushing his hair from his forehead gently. Amy squeezed his shoulder gently, “He’s still with us, Joey.”

He wiped at his eyes, nodded. She was right, he wasn’t dead, and he’d been badly hurt before. The thought didn’t really help. His phone buzzed again, but it was a different pattern than the group chat, so he took it out. he blinked at Wally’s name on the notification.

_|Hey, where are you? They won’t tell me where he is cause I’m not ~family~|_

He sighed, belatedly realising that, no, he hadn’t gotten an assurance from Wally that he wouldn’t immediately run to Blüdhaven. He opened his text-to-speech app in lieu of answering the message, _“I’ll be right back, can you stay with him?”_

Amy jumped slightly, but nodded, “Of course.”

He gave her a weak smile before heading to the front desk. Wally had definitely run straight from Central, he looked about as stressed as Joey felt and was still bickering with the woman at the desk. He sighed again, he strode over, grabbed Wally’s hand, gave the front desk woman a terse thank you and left.

“How is he?” Wally asked, despite the fact that Joey was still holding his hand and couldn’t answer. He looked at him sadly and tightened his grip and got a soft, “Oh,” in response.

When they got to Dick’s room, Amy stood up, “Who’s this?” she asked as Wally dropped Joey’s hand to immediately reach for the chart at the end of the bed.

“Wally West. Shit.” He flicked through the chart.

“Can you even read that?” She asked.

“Yes, I can.” He frowned, putting it back and running a hand through his hair, “Who are you, sorry?”

‘Amy Rohrbach. She’s Dick’s sergeant.’ Joey had moved back to the chair. ‘She drove us here.’

He blinked at her, “Oh, thank you.” He looked at Dick, looked away. It was awkward, with the three of them, but Joey didn’t have the energy to do anything about that.

Amy sighed, looked at her watch, “Shit. I should get home. Are you gonna be okay?” She squeezed his shoulder again when he nodded. “Keep me updated, okay? And look after yourself.” She looked at Wally, who was still scrubbing at his scalp, struggling to look at the man on the bed, “Both of you.” Joey squeezed her hand and nodded.

She smiled tightly and moved to leave, Wally stepped forward slightly, cleared his throat awkwardly, “I… thank you. Really.”

Amy nodded, a soft look on her face that Joey didn’t usually see, before she eased past him and left.

Wally sighed, carefully slid a chair away from one of the other beds to sit next to Joey. “What happened?”

He wipes at his eyes again, ‘Nothing we can prove. But it was his co-workers.’ He pulled the patch back out of his pocket and passed it to him. ‘I think it was Cross and the others that he complains about.’

“The racist ones.” Wally ground out. “Bastards. Can’t we just–” he turned to Joey, stopped when he saw him shaking his head.

‘Amy’s right. They’ll close ranks. We’ll get stuck in he-said-she-said forever and it won’t help anyone. And that’s if they don’t just call us liars and throw the case out.’ He sobbed softly, ‘The only way they’d face anything is if Bruce filed a wrongful death suit and the city decided to leave them out in the cold over it.’ His hands were shaking so badly he wondered idly if Wally could even understand.

“Bruce can’t file a wrongful death suit, because he’s not going to die.” Wally said firmly. He curled an arm around Joey’s shoulders, let him rest his head on him, “Does B know?”

He shook his head. ‘They’ll fight, I haven’t figured out how to prevent that.’

Wally sighed, rubbed at his eyes. “What did the doctor say?” He turned slightly when Joey just brushed his fingers through Dick’s hair. “Joe?”

He sighed, ‘She said to call his family.’

 _“Shit_.”

Joey sobbed harshly, curling further into Wally’s shoulder. This was… so much and so bad and Dick wasn’t breathing on his own and the doctor had said nothing about him waking up and he was stable but that didn’t _mean_ anything, not really, and Joey should have gone with him, and he could die at any time and–

Wally was carding his fingers through Joey’s hair. Shushing him gently. “He’ll be okay, he’s Dick, yeah? He’s had worse than this. He’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

Joey sniffled, but nodded.

Someone came over to the bed, and Wally squeezed him gently and said, “I’ll be right back.” He followed whoever it had been to the hallway and Joey ran his thumb across Dick’s hand slowly, trying to ground himself. He could hear the hum of Wally trying to keep his voice down, but he couldn’t understand the words. He sounded upset, and Joey breathed deeply and focussed on the steady beeping of the machines that meant that Dick was still there. the conversation ended and Wally sat down next to him again, “Hey, that woman, the sergeant, do you have her phone number?”

He frowned, but nodded. He passed him his phone, ‘What’s wrong?’

“Hopefully, nothing,” He smiled tightly, held the phone to his ear. “Hi, no it’s Wally. From the- yeah. No, no, he’s… well, yeah. The hospital said there’s something wrong with his insurance.” Joey’s head snapped up, watching Wally, “Wait, wait. No he was suspended,” He frowned, “What? He wouldn’t have quit!” He hissed.

Joey tapped at his arm to get his attention, ‘What’s going on?’

“Hang on,” He told Amy, tucked the phone against his neck, “They didn’t suspend him, they fired him. But they’re claiming he quit.” He untucked the phone, “Which is ridiculous.”

Joey’s stomach felt like lead. That didn’t make sense. Why would they have bothered lying to him about it. they could have just fired him or forced him to quit. There was no reason to lie to him. ‘Straight away?’

Wally looked at him, “Wait, what do you mean?”

‘Did they fire him _when_ they said they’d suspended him. Or was it later?’

“That’s a good question,” He hummed relaying it to Amy. He hummed at her answer, “She says she’s pretty sure it’s a recent development, she only found out today.”

Joey frowned, that meant that something had to have changed. ‘Why?’ what could have happened between when he got suspended and now that would finally push them to fire him. He scowled, trying to think of anything that could have finally tripped that line.

“You’re sure? Okay. No, no. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. It’s all good. Yeah. I will. Bye.” Wally hung up and passed his phone back. “She says she doesn’t know why. She only found out because she overheard the tail end of some douchebags laughing about it.” He scrubbed at his face. “Fuck though.”

‘We’ll have to find out. But it explains why they thought they could get away with this.’

“Yeah.” Wally sighed again. “So what now? There’s no way the two of you have the savings for this. Cause like, I’m one of your patrons, Joe, and I can do math.”

He snorted, ‘No. We don’t. We barely made rent last week because of his suspension.’

“So?”

He huffed softly. There was no chance for delays now. He had two options for people he could reasonably get to help them cover this. His dad, or Dick’s. His dad would definitely have the cash, ill-begotten as it was, but he’d also flip his shit about this happening at all and heads would absolutely and literally roll among the Blüdhaven underworld. He didn’t really want a gang war to start over this and he knew that Dick would blame himself when he found out it was Slade. So, no. He rubbed at his eyes. ‘So I get in touch with Bruce. Sooner rather than later. Can you update the Titans?’

Wally nodded, “Are you sure? I can take Bruce if you want.”

He shook his head, ‘I’ve got it.’ he didn’t but he was also not going to text Bruce anyway.

He opened his text conversation with Alfred and started typing about four times before he send the message.

|Hey Alfred, I don’t really know how to say this. I don’t mean to worry you, but something’s happened to Dick. We’re in the hospital and he’s stable but it’s not, it’s not looking great. We’re not really sure what happened either. I know that he and Bruce aren’t on great terms, but I couldn’t not tell you. Sorry.|

He slumped back in his chair, ignoring the pinging of the group chat and leaning into Wally when his arm curled around his shoulders again.

_|There is nothing for you to apologise for, sir. May I inquire as to which hospital you are in? And is it just yourself and Master Dick?|_

Joey smiled softly at the reply.

|Blüdhaven General. And Wally’s here.|

_|Excellent. We are on our way.|_

He sighed. He felt Wally glancing at his phone over his shoulder, “They’re coming?”

He nodded, reaching out to take Dick’s hand again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weh-hey, this is apparently the Go atm, so we have a second section that's as huge as the first one which... I was not expecting, and I doubt I can keep up.  
> Characters will be steadily added as they show up by the way, because I'm dumb and only tag the ones I've written when i start p much  
> Hope you enjoy~

He knew that the drive from the manor to Blüdhaven took just over an hour, but he also wasn’t surprised when Bruce Wayne arrived at the hospital in just over forty-five minutes instead. He faltered at the door and Wally half stood. “Bruce…”

He seemed to steel himself and moved to the end of the bed, picking up the chart and scowling at it. Alfred followed him inside, turned to Joey and Wally, “Master Wallace,” He held out a sandwich and Wally gave him a small grateful smile. “I assumed that you wouldn’t have left his side for anything, including looking after yourself.”

“And you’d be right. Thank you Alfred.” He sat back down. Joey felt a little bad that he hadn’t considered the fact that Wally should have eaten something after booking it all the way there. But he was also so tired.

“Master Joseph,” Alfred said softly and Joey looked up at him, “For you,” He held out a thermos, and Joey stood to take it. He unscrewed the cap and inhaled the smell of jasmine and honey and felt his eyes start stinging again. He pressed the heel of the hand holding the cup into his eye, trying to swallow his sobbing. Alfred took the thermos back and passed it to Wally before pulling Joey into a firm, brisk hug. He pulled back, his hands on Joey’s shoulders, “You have done everything right, Master Joseph.”

He nodded weakly, ‘Thank you.’

The older man nodded as well.

“What happened?” Bruce spoke up finally. He didn’t look up from the chart but his knuckles were white around its edges. His voice was much closer to what Joey had heard from Batman the few times that he’d had to work with the Titans than what he’d heard from Brucie in his scant public appearances. It wasn’t only him either, judging by how Wally sat up straighter when he spoke.

Alfred levelled him with an even look.

He flopped into the seat again. If Bruce wouldn’t look at him then he couldn’t exactly answer, so he was happy to wait for him to stop glaring holes in Dick’s paperwork.

The beeping of the monitors was steady and unnerving at the same time in the quiet that came until Bruce sighed and put the chart back, looking at Dick sadly. Joey sat up to catch his attention, ‘He was meant to be getting us dinner, but he was taking too long so I went to find him. He was four alleys from home, like this, and I messaged Amy to bring us here. They took him into surgery, which I don’t… actually have a lot of details on, then here. Then Wally arrived, Amy went home, and now you’re here.’ It wasn’t what he meant, but it was all he really knew. For certain at least. He wasn’t _as_ hesitant to tell Bruce his theory about Dick’s co-workers as he would be to tell Slade, but he wasn’t eager either.

“Amy Rohrbach?”

Joey nodded.

“Wait,” Wally interrupted, “They didn’t tell you?” He studied Joey’s face as he shook his head hesitantly. Wally bit his lip.

‘Wally, what didn’t they tell me?’ He asked firmly.

It was Bruce who answered, “He flatlined.”

“You should have been told that. He should have been told!” Wally stood rapidly.

“Shh.” The sound was automatic, but Joey hadn’t looked away from Dick’s face since Bruce spoke. It wasn’t really a surprise. He’d carried Dick in here, he _knew_ how still and how _close_ he’d been but… He closed his eyes, focussed on the steady beeping of the machines that meant Dick was still here.

“I’m going to find the doctor.” Wally said irritably.

“No, Wally. Let me.” Bruce said evenly. It was a false evenness, Joey could tell that, but he appreciated it, “They’re more likely to listen to me than to a twenty-year-old.”

“But–”

“Perhaps, sir, you could assist me in getting some things from Master Dick’s apartment,” Alfred said softly. “And we’ll get you a proper meal, you’ve probably burned through that sandwich well and truly by now.”

“I… yeah. Okay.”

Joey felt a small smile form on his lips, ‘You need to keep moving, Wals, or you’ll stop breathing. You’re the same like that.’ His smile faltered, and his eyes were stinging again.

“Master Joseph, is there anything you need from home? Apart from a change of clothes?” Alfred asked softly. He blinked and looked down at himself. He hadn’t given any thought to Dick’s blood that had soaked into his shirt and his jeans, the strip of cloth that was probably still on the ground in the alley where he’d dropped it when Amy found them, but now he was aware of it, he was starting to feel nauseous.

“Shit. Joey, I didn’t even think…”

He shook his head, cleared his throat, ‘Can you bring me my sketchbook? Please? I… I can’t think of anything else.’

“Of course.” He smiled warmly. “Master Wallace, shall we?”

He hesitated, hugged Joey quickly, “Yeah. Yeah let’s go.”

Joey looked up and waved as they left, sighed and carefully took Dick’s hand again.

“Joe? What do you think happened?”

He rubbed at his eyes, ‘You should find the doctor.’

Bruce sighed slightly, “Will you be okay?” He nodded and Bruce left.

He should have some of the tea that Alfred brought, something to drink, but he doubted he could swallow anything past the lump in his throat. He wanted to scream. There was a wall of sounds that his ruined throat was blocking and it felt like it was going to burst. He leaned over to press his forehead into the back of Dick’s hand and sobbed. He hated the sounds that eked out of his throat, scratchy and cracked and nothing close to a voice. But he couldn’t stop. Dick was dying. Joey didn’t get any information from the doctor. His heart had stopped and Joey hadn’t known. Didn’t know for how long. He didn’t look at the chart. He couldn’t read it anyway. He should be able to. He hated not knowing. Sitting here completely in the dark about what was going on. But he was so scared to ask. What if they said that Dick would never wake up. Or worse, that they didn’t know. He didn’t know if he could take that.

He wondered if this was anything like what his parents felt when he was recovering after his throat was slashed.

He jumped when Bruce came back, gingerly sitting next to him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head.

“The doctor basically said that we won’t know the extent of anything until he wakes up, and we’ll have to keep an eye out for the usual complications.” He said. Joey took comfort in the fact Bruce had said until. Batman was, after all, a staunch realist and it was doubtful he’d sugar-coat the situation. “e’s I’m going to have him transferred to Gotham Memorial, as soon as possible,” Bruce said softly, and he sounded like Bruce now. Or, at least like the sort of gentle, but repressed man that Dick described when he was feeling soft about his childhood in Gotham.

Dick wasn’t going to be super pleased about waking up in Gotham instead of at home. But Dick wasn’t in a position to really complain right now. Still, Joey was his boyfriend, ‘He’ll pitch a fit, you know.’

“Probably.” Bruce acquiesced. “But this place is understaffed and underfunded and in Gotham I can get him the best care possible.” He hesitated, “If you want, you can stay at the manor,” Joey turned to look at him and he seemed to backpedal, “Or I can get you a hotel, if you’d prefer.”

Joey smiled weakly, ‘You don’t have to, you know? Dick and I will struggle with medical bills but I can pay for a hotel room.’

Bruce shifted uncomfortably, “I know, but you don’t have to. You’re important to Dick, and I…” He trailed off, his words getting caught in his throat.

He touched his arm gently, ‘It’s okay, I understand. And thank you. I’d like to see the manor, at least. It would be nice to have locations for some of Dick’s stories.’

He looked grateful, and they sat in gentle quiet with the beeping for a while before he spoke again. “The nurse said something about his insurance.”

Joey deflated, ‘BPD are monsters.’ He passed him the patch. ‘I… I was holding off telling you because you’re going to try and fix it. To catch them and bring them to justice and then Dick will take it as you swooping in to clean up his messes because you don’t think he can. Like they’re the stupid kids at his middle school you got suspended. And then you’ll fight and you won’t speak for even longer.’

“Joe, wait. Who’s is this?” Bruce was sitting straighter, now, a calculating look on his face.

‘I think it’s one of his co-worker’s, but I can’t say which for sure.’ He sighed, ‘He was suspended. Last week. Or they said he was. Or they changed their minds.’ He huffed angrily, glaring at nothing, ‘They’re claiming he quit. He didn’t, he’s too stubborn about this. But he’s lost his insurance. They changed it in their system to claim he quit and a few days later he’s beaten half to death and _that_ is in his hand.’ He sat back, trying to quash the anger in his chest.

Bruce was quiet for a moment. “Do you have a motive?” Batman. The man was now completely hiding behind the bat.

He scoffed, ‘He’s Romani. He’s honest. He cares about people. He calls them out for their corruption. And their racism. And their sexism. And their homophobia.’ He looked at Dick’s face, at the ventilator tube, and the feeding tube and the wires and monitors, ‘He’s a good person, and they want him dead because of it.’

“He’s not dead, Joey,” He said softly, and Joey really wished people would stop saying that to him like he didn’t know. “And you’re right, I do want to fix this for him. The people who did this deserve to face the consequences.”

‘This isn’t Gotham, capes aren’t trusted here. There is no Commissioner Gordon to hold the police accountable. Nightwing tries, but he’s also on the wanted list. And he hasn’t bought any cops to keep him out of the firing line.’ He turned to look at him, ‘You’d have to take out civil suits.’

“Then I will.” Bruce said simply. So simply, like that was nothing. And Joey believed him. It was easy to see why Bruce was trusted as a leader of the league, he carried a certainty in him. Dick had it too. He wondered if they’d gotten it from each other, or if it was one of the things that drew them together all those years ago.

‘You have to talk to him first.’ He said firmly. ‘You need to have a conversation about how he wants to handle this. And,’ He held Bruce’s gaze for a long moment, ‘You need to follow his lead. If he wants you to butt out, you butt out.’ Bruce opened his mouth but Joey shook his head, ‘No. When he gets hurt, you get scared, but you cannot let that- You cannot steamroll him on this. When he gets hurt, and you decide you know what’s best for him, and you ignore everything he has to say on the subject, you get a little closer to losing him for good. You do not move on any of this beyond information gathering until he is awake and lucid and you have his permission. Got it?’

Bruce looked at him strangely, but nodded, “Okay.”

“Wow, we should have let you loose on Bruce years ago,” Wally said from the doorway and Joey jumped. He’d been crying, but he looked a little better for it. He slipped Dick’s Titans backpack off his shoulder, “I’m not sure what clothes I grabbed, but I grabbed them?” He smiled weakly as he passed it over.

Joey thanked him, fidgeting with the straps.

“There is a bathroom just down the hall, Master Joseph.” Alfred smiled, “I have some of your more portable art supplies here as well for when you return.”

He nodded, looked at Dick for a long moment before he left to find the bathroom. He slipped inside and opened the bag. He smiled softly, Wally had grabbed a handful of clothes from the basket in their bedroom. The one that Dick left a note on top of with _I’ll fold these tomorrow, promise~ :)_ scrawled in purple sharpie. Joey but his lip and rubbed under his eyes. He sighed and pulled his shirt off, using it to scrub away any remains of dried blood. It was still under his fingernails but he was just too tired to bother. He pulled on his soft purple turtle neck and swapped his probably ruined jeans for an aqua pair that Wally had also grabbed. He found a plastic bag at the bottom of the backpack that had probably been put there by Alfred and shoved his bloody clothes into it before tying it tightly and putting it in the bag. He considered taking a moment to lean on the sink and cry. He doubted that any of the men in the other room would begrudge him. But he didn’t really want to be away from Dick for that long, just to cry, when he’d been crying all night. He settled for splashing water on his face and heading back.

He was honestly a little relieved that Bruce and Wally were in the chairs when he came in. Wally moved to stand but he waved him off and sat on the edge of the bed. Alfred passed him some of the tea and he smiled his thanks as he nursed it. The four of them sat in silence for a while before an orderly came over and gently informed them that only one of them could stay.

Wally looked between them as the orderly left, “I didn’t really think that far ahead…”

“We’ll handle it,” Bruce hummed.

“I could stay at Dick and Joey’s,” He ignored him.

Joey nodded, but Alfred tutted, “With love, and understanding in regards to your circumstances in this city, Master Joseph, that apartment is barely above a tenement slum. Master Wallace, Master Bruce will cover a hotel room for you.”

Wally’s mouth snapped shut and Joey smiled as he retorted with a half-hearted, ‘It’s not that bad.’ That earned him a raised eyebrow that he chuckled at.

“Will you be okay here?” Bruce asked gently. He nodded stiffly when Joey reassured him and stood. He watched Dick’s chest rise and fall with the help of the ventilator before clearing his throat, “We’ll be back in the morning. Hopefully his transfer to Gotham will be ready tomorrow. The sooner we get him home, the better.”

Joey cleared his throat, ‘This is his home, too. So’s the tower.’

“Of course, I didn’t mean–” He cut himself off when Joey continued.

‘I know you didn’t, but words are important and it’s the sort of thing that bugs him.’ He smiled gently, ‘It’s not something he’d tell you though. You’re both bad at talking to each other.’

Bruce let out a soft huff, “That’s certainly true.” Alfred gently touched his elbow and he seemed to come back to himself. “We should head out. Wally, I assume you didn’t bring a car?”

“Uh, no.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks.” He squeezed Joey’s shoulder, “See you later, Joe.”

Joey nodded to him, caught his wrist and squeezed before Wally joined Bruce by the door.

Alfred rested a hand on his back gently, “Take heart, lad. Our boy is as strong as he is stubborn. He’ll pull through.”

He smiled softly, ‘I know, thank you.’

He nodded, “Try to get some rest.”

‘I will if you three do.’ He teased lightly and the older man scoffed lightly. ‘I know it’s a tall order.’

“Not by half, young man.” Alfred smiled at him before herding Wally and Bruce away and presumably out of the hospital.

Joey smiled after them, turning to Dick, he sighed, brushed his hair from his forehead, ‘You better not prove him wrong.’ The only answer he got was steady beeping and he did his best to take solace in it. He sighed again, moved back to the chair and found his sketching stings tucked neatly beneath it. Thanking Alfred to himself he pulled them free and started idly feathering out lines and shapes to keep his mind occupied.

At some point they turned off the main ceiling lights for the ward and he tucked the sketchbook away. He fidgeted with the seat’s position and did his best to get comfortable. He started to doze at some point, rousing each time someone switched on the bedside lights to check on Dick and dropping off soon after. But he was only dozing and when he felt himself drift back into consciousness when the lights were off, it didn’t take him long to figure out why.

He opened his eyes to see his dad flicking through Dick’s chart at the end of the bed. He sat up, knowing his movement would be enough to catch his attention, ‘Stop tracing my phone.’

“Well maybe if you talked to me I wouldn’t have to.” Slade said simply.

Joey rolled his eyes, ‘We’ve been here less than twelve hours, dad. Now sit down before a nurse sees you.’

He frowned, but sat, “You think I’m that sloppy, Joe?” When he didn’t answer, Slade continued, “Whoever wrote that chart should have finished their shift three hours before they got to him.”

‘I haven’t looked.’ Joey had gone back to looking at Dick’s face in the semi-dark. ‘Everyone else did.’

He snorted, “Is Wayne suing for malpractice?”

He shook his head, if Slade wanted to be petty, he could be alone in it. ‘He’s having him transferred to a hospital in Gotham. One that’s better funded and less crowded.’

Slade hummed. After a moment he spoke again, “You could have called me.”

Joey glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He was here as his dad, no uniform, no mask. Only enough gear to get him in and out without issue. It was a peace offering, he knew that. He sighed softly, ‘You say that like you’re not trying to figure out how to wheedle me for who did it.’

“You say that like you know.”

He’d have groaned if he could. ‘No.’

“Joe–”

‘No.’ He repeated. ‘I’m not letting you go and kill someone over this. It will not help.’

“I do have my own methods of finding things out, you know.” Slade mumbled. Glanced at him, “I’m not asking you to tell me their names, Joey. I would just like to know what happened.”

He could tell him their theory. It wouldn’t be telling him any more than what he told Bruce after all. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t find out if he wanted to. He probably already knew the right people to lean on. Joey really didn’t want him to get involved. ‘Dad, I love you, but it _will not help._ ’ He stressed. He sighed again and sat back. ‘How did you even find out so fast?’

“I thought we established I traced your phone?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. It dropped quickly and he watched the line on the heart monitor. “I was just checking up on you. I’m selfishly glad it’s not you in the bed. Not that I’m glad that it’s Grayson. I… I know he’s important to you.”

‘He’s my boyfriend dad, that’s something of an understatement.’ He let a slight smile tug at his lips.

Slade pulled a face, “Again. You don’t talk to me.”

Joey rolled his eyes. He’d not really told Slade that he and Dick were together. But he hadn’t had an actual conversation with his father in quite a while. It wasn’t like he’d been deliberately avoiding it. Although, it wasn’t like they didn’t have a _reason_ not to tell him. ‘You’ve been on and off stalking him since he was fifteen. I didn’t want you to be weird about it.’

“You have so little faith in me.” He sighed. “But I know that I can be… intense.”

He snorted.

“And I know that the pair of us have something of a history.”

‘You toyed with him for months, you forced him to work under you by threatening his friends’ lives, you used a teenage girl to infiltrate their team to take him down, pretty much just to get back at him by that point. You commissioned a specialised hallucinogen–’

“Alright, alright. Maybe you had reason to assume I’d be weird about it.”

‘And you tried to use him to replace Grant.’ Joey finished.

He narrowed his eye. “That’s not fair. And not true.”

‘It’s a little bit true.’ He shot back. But there was no heat or intensity. Honestly, he didn’t think Slade had been consciously trying to replace his eldest son with the Bat’s heir. But he did think that it had been an element.

He sighed. “Joe, let me be concerned, would you? Whatever- whoever this was, it wasn’t related to his night work.” He pulled a face when he noticed Joey’s raised eyebrow, “If it was, you’d have contacted the league and the pair of you would be in the their medbay, with the best tech and doctors available. Not here in a shitty public hospital in a shithole city with Bruce trying to expedite his transfer to somewhere with less malpractice suits.” Joey tipped his head to the side slightly in concession, because, well yeah. If he’d been this hurt as Nightwing, Joey would have set off every emergency beacon they had and they would probably be at a league base. If for no other reason than Superman was faster than Wally. He nodded and continued, “Add his training into the mix… He’s too well trained for this to have been a random attack. To do this to a bat would have taken an ambush and to take Dick Grayson by surprise requires one hell of a plan. Now,” He sat forward slightly, “I know you don’t want to tell me, Joey. Because you don’t want me to get involved. But I’m sorry. You are my son. I am going to make sure that whoever did this isn’t going to be a threat to you.”

Joey looked at him for a long time. Slade met his gaze evenly. ‘Don’t kill them. Don’t threaten them. I’ve already got Bruce to promise that he will wait for Dick and follow his lead on the matter before he takes action. I- I know that you don’t care about that, but I want your word that you will find out if they’re still a threat to us and if they’re not, you _will_ drop it.’

He scowled, “Joey…”

‘Your word, dad.’ He repeated firmly. Slade’s word was his bond. He’d never break it. Not for _anything_. Joey only noticed that he’d started fidgeting with the neckline of his shirt when his father’s eye was drawn to the movement before he looked away entirely.

“Fine. You win. But if they _are_ a threat to you. I will do whatever I have to to neutralise them.”

It was less than he wanted, but it was better than he thought he’d get. He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Slade sighed, he carded his fingers through Joey’s curls briefly before pulling him into a quick hug. “Look after yourself through this, okay? Grayson’ll only feel worse when he wakes up to find out you haven’t been eating or sleeping properly because you were stubbornly keeping vigil.”

He huffed a laugh, as he pulled back, ‘I know. I’ll be fine. I’m sure Alfred will intervene if he thinks I’m not, anyway.’

He hummed, rubbing his thumb over Joey’s cheekbone. “I suppose. I’ll be around, okay? Feel free to message me if you don’t think it’s weird to keep me in the loop.”

He let himself smile, ‘This isn’t night work related, remember? If you promise not to _make_ it weird, I think I can keep you in the loop about my boyfriend.’

Slade matched his expression. “I’ll do my best.” He stood up and sighed, “Talk soon, Joe.” ‘I love you.’

Joey smiled at the two statements and Slade’s dumb habit of signing something different to what he was saying. Dick did it too, not that he was planning on telling either about the other one. ‘I love you too. Good night.’ His father nodded and vanished into the halls. Joey settled back into his seat, took Dick’s hand gently and let himself doze again, lulled by the steady beeping of the machines that were keeping him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst - come hang out with me on twitter @demigenderbaby -


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooft we are late, and I am sorry, this one has had such long chapters and I kind of like the vibe that gives but it makes it a monster to update.  
> But! It is here! And I hope you enjoy it

It was early when Bruce returned to the hospital. Too early for visiting hours. Joey was sketching, Dick, not- not as he was but the way he’d been before he left. Laughing and bright and alive. All perpetual movement and endless grace. He looked up from his work when he heard Bruce arguing. It was barely dawn and Bruce was arguing with the doctors already.

“I want it recorded that this is against my advice.” It was the same doctor as the night before, the one that had brought them to him. “Moving him now is-"

“You said he's stable, didn't you?” Bruce pretended he was asking, but his dumb act was thin on the ground.

She sighed through her nose, “For now. But he could crash at any time. Your foster son's condition is precarious, moving him to Gotham right now is dangerous.”

“Gotham Memorial has one of the best transfer teams in New England. And you’re underfunded and stretched thin here. It's one less patient to worry about.”

“Mr Wayne. I understand that you're used to getting your way. But you need to understand me. If you move him today, there is a good chance he will crash en route. When that happens, this hospital will take no responsibility. You are insisting on this against medical advice and on your head be the consequences.”

Before Bruce could respond the sound of sharp footsteps receded down the hallway. There was a sigh from the doorway. Joey turned to look at him, and he pulled a tight smile. “I got the transfer.”

‘After a fashion.’ He raised an eyebrow in the direction the doctor had left.

He sighed again. “He'll be okay. Gotham Memorial's team is the best. And I've asked Kal to keep an ear out just in case. I won't lose him.”

Joey watched Dick's chest rise and fall. ‘Tell me. Please. No one’s told me how bad it is.’

Bruce watched him for a moment before he sat down next to him. “He has three broken ribs. Two more are cracked. Severe bruising across his entire torso. His left shoulder was wrenched, almost dislocated. Severe internal bleeding, which is what caused him to flatline during surgery. And the head trauma. Repeated blunt force blows. Fractured skull. Severe facial bruising, it's a miracle he doesn't have any facial fractures. The coma is induced at the moment. Preliminary scans look... not terrible. But he also can't breathe on his own, so we just don't know.”

Joey could feel his eyes stinging, but he just nodded solemnly. It was bad but not worse than he'd expected. ‘The doctor said he could crash during the transfer?’

Bruce nodded, “But that would be true up to the point when the transfer would be useless.” He shifted as he spoke, “Moving a critical patient is always a risk, but he will get better care in Gotham. Better enough that the risk is worth it.” He was looking at Dick without really looking at him, “And if the worst happens, and the team can't handle it, Kal will take him to either the trauma centre or the Watchtower. Identities be damned.”

He felt his eyebrows climb. The Bats were always so careful with their id's. Dick hadn't even told the Titans until circumstances forced his hand. The fact that Bruce would risk all of that for him... Joey wasn't sure how Dick would react to knowing that. Probably with the same mixed feelings that accompanied everything Bruce did. ‘When is the transfer happening?’

“As soon as the team arrives.”

He exhaled every drop of air in his lungs. That was... soon. And all he could think of was his dad's mention of malpractice suits. They almost felt pointed now. It was probably just Bruce’s paranoia though, rather than Dick being in imminent danger. He squeezed Dick's hand and felt tears prick at his eyes when Dick didn't squeeze back. Which was stupid. He was in an induced coma (god that somehow felt worse than he hadn't woken up yet even though Joey knew, he _knew_ it wasn't) he couldn't squeeze back. Joey huffed and swiped at his eyes.

“Joey?” Bruce asked gently.

‘He could die at any time, couldn't he?’ He let out a noise caught between a sob and a hiccup. ‘I feel like if I breathe wrong or bump him slightly that will be it. He'll be gone and-' he pressed his hands into his mouth, trying desperately to force his breaths to even out.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as Bruce crouched in front of his chair, “I know it's stressful, Joey. But he won't die. I won't lose him.”

There was something else there. Underneath what was very clearly the talking-to-shaken-civilians voice that every superhero had. And it was something he felt like he should be able to catch, but he was struggling to think past Dick lying perfectly still in a hospital bed. Lying on the ground bleeding. If he crashed and died what would the last thing they'd said to each other be? He couldn't remember. Something mundane. Something fond and domestic, at least. Nothing so dramatic as an argument that he’d regret for the rest of his life, but he wished he could remember. He felt like it should be something he remembered.

He startled slightly when Bruce shifted, “Hey, I mean it.” And he did. Joey knew he did.

‘You’re less of a pessimist than he says you are.’

There was a flicker of fond exasperation, “I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist.”

Joey smiled, ‘A pessimistic one.’

He shook his head, standing up and rubbing at his face.

‘You didn’t sleep, did you?’ He asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Did you?” It answered his question, for all it wasn’t an answer.

Joey stretched, ‘Here and there. I woke up every time someone came to check on him, though.’ He wondered, for a moment, if he should tell Bruce his dad had visited. But only briefly. Batman would not respond well to Deathstroke having snuck into his son’s hospital room. And he doubted he would hear any assurances that it hadn’t been Deathstroke, so much a Slade Wilson panicking at the thought that _his_ son was in hospital and he didn’t know why. Even though Joey got the distinct feeling that were the positions reversed, Bruce would do the exact same thing. He remembered Dick’s angry rants about how hypocritical his father was. _He’s not my dad, Joey, he’s just B_. ‘I’m betting you got none at all.’

He shrugged, “No less than usual, really.”

He smiled softly, the Bats really were as bad as each other. ‘Have you considered melatonin?’

“Hn.”

Joey turned back to Dick, ‘He’s something, your dad. Isn’t he?’

“Excuse me.” It was the doctor again, she looked incredibly pissed. There was a small group of people behind her, “The transfer team is here.” She turned on her heel and left as one of the team members stepped forward into the room.

“Hi, Mr Wayne, I’m Antony. I’m sorry to ask, but I need the two of you to give us some room.” He smiled.

Joey stood and started gathering the things Wally and Alfred had brought him. He carefully swung the bag onto his shoulder, and leant over to gingerly kiss Dick’s hair. ‘I’ll see you soon, okay?’

“Can one of us–”

He heard Antony exhale slightly, “I’m sorry. No. Extra people means extra variables, and considering Mr Grayson’s condition…”

Bruce nodded, “I understand, thank you. We’ll get out of your way.” He put a hand on Joey’s back as they left the room. He fidgeted with the strap of the backpack and twisted his head around to keep his gaze on Dick for as long as he could. “Sorry,” Bruce said softly, moving his hand away.

He shook his head, but didn’t stop fidgeting.

Bruce’s phone buzzed and he tapped at his watch. It was odd, seeing someone as paranoid as Batman using a smart watch, but he guessed it made sense that Brucie Wayne would have the shiniest newest tech available. He huffed a gentle laugh, “It’s Alfred. Telling me to get back to the hotel,” He put on the slightest British accent, “And for goodness sake, get that poor boy something to eat.”

Joey smiled. He was glad he’d been right when he’d told his dad that Alfred would look out for him. He didn’t want to give him another excuse to swing by and cause drama. He wasn’t really hungry, but he also understood that that was because he was stressed. He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, so he really should. Even if it honestly sounded incredibly unpleasant. Knowing that it was stress that was causing the knots in his stomach didn’t make them go away. He didn’t think they were going to go away until Dick was awake and okay. But Alfred was right, he should eat. And his dad was right about Dick probably feeling worse if he thought Joey hadn’t been looking after himself. ‘I guess I should probably eat.’

The look on Bruce’s face was understanding and sympathetic, “We’ll stop at a café on the way back, rather than finding something here.”

He nodded, took out his phone and opened the Titan’s chat. There was a lot of messages that hadn’t been there last time he’d opened it. Wally’s update from last night (Dick was stable, but his insurance was weird, and Joey was contacting Bruce) was followed by all of the Titans reminding them to call if they could help at all, and to keep them updated. It was comforting.

|Morning guys, Dick’s still the same. Bruce organised a transfer to Gotham Memorial, and the team’s just arrived to do that, it’s not much of an update, but not a lot has happened so|

It was Raven who responded, which made sense, she’d be just about to start her morning meditation.

_|How are you holding up?|_

He exhaled, emptying his lungs in a rush.

|I’m? Stressed. But okay. Going for breakfast now so the transfer team can work|

He got a gif of a heartfelt hug from some show he didn’t recognise from Starfire in return, and a message from Raven directly to him.

_|Joey, you’re allowed to not be okay_

_I know you know that, we’re here for you|_

He sniffled, ignored Bruce glancing at him and appreciated the man’s hand on his back again as he guided them through the hospital hallways that Joey didn’t remember from the night before.

|I know, I’m just|

|I’m scared, Rae. He’s so still and his surgeon said he has a high risk of crashing en route, what if she’s right?|

He watched the little typing dots for what felt like minutes before she responded.

_|What does Bruce think?|_

He let out the softest, fondest, huff. Raven was practical. And she knew Bruce’s tendencies to overthink and plan for the worst.

|He thinks that Dick will be fine. The transfer is risky but he’s asked Superman to step in if he crashes and the team can’t handle it for some reason|

_|Okay, that’s good. That means that Bruce has thought of the worst case scenario and planned accordingly. If the worst happens, Superman will be there.|_

He sighed, Raven was right and he _knew_ that already. But it felt better coming from someone who had probably slept last night.

|Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Rae|

_|Don’t worry. And you’re still allowed to be stressed, okay? I’m just here to remind you that if Batman thinks it’ll be okay, it probably will be|_

He smiled as they reached the hospital doors. Bruce glanced at him again as he continued to the car, “The Titans, I assume?”

Joey nodded, ‘Raven. She and Star are probably the only ones that are awake.’

“Including Wally, actually,” Bruce hummed and he smiled.

‘I’m glad he got to sleep, at least,’ He adjusted the backpack at he walked.

Bruce snorted, “I wouldn't be surprised if he walked a hole in the hotel carpet first, but yes.”

They lapsed back into the same comfortable silence they'd managed the night before. It was almost nice, would have been if not for the circumstances. It reminded him of how Dick, always moving, always thinking, always _something_ , would just sit, quietly, with him while he drew, or painted, or practiced. Unbothered by the lack in conversation. It confused Beast Boy, and a little bit Cy. Neither of them ever really saw it. And it would make Star nervous for the first few minutes, if it was just Dick, or just the two of them. But she would realise and sit with him like she did with Raven. Like they both did with Raven. Joey wasn't sure if Wally ever saw Dick being contentedly quiet, his own constant high energy was something that Dick easily matched, after all.

Walking with Bruce though, it made sense. He was quiet and still and it followed that Dick would be able to match his father's energy as well as he did his friends’. He wondered if Bruce ever consciously noticed it. If it had been something that Dick had learnt to do. If he had been relieved that his son was able to calm down, or worried about it. He wondered if Dick would know either way. He seemed like a hard man to read, but so was Joey's own dad, so it was probably a matter of practice.

Bruce ushered him into a small cafe with a quiet, “What would you like?” and Joey rattled off the first coffee that came to mind and picked the lightest looking pastry in the case. He smiled at the barista when he saw her watching his hands, without a hint of understanding and looking apologetic about it. She smiled back as she took their order and they went to sit down.

It was a nice cafe, small but comfortable. Most of the people coming in grasped at their now-full keep-cups and headed out the door as quickly as they'd entered, vanishing into the streets of the city as it grumbled itself awake. Bruce was trying to look like he wasn't fighting the urge to fidget. “I have to admit, Dick never told me that you two were...” He trailed off, looking consternated.

Joey smiled slightly, ‘Together?’ Bruce's mouth pressed into a line and he softened, ‘Don't take it too personally. We didn't really announce it or anything.’ He stopped to give the barista another smile as she placed his croissant on the table, ‘Thank you.’

She lit up a fraction, “Uh, that means thank you, right?”

His smile widened and he nodded.

She grinned back, “Yeah, cool. I mean, you're welcome. I'll be right back with your drinks.” She said as she hurried back to the counter.

Joey turned back to Bruce, ‘Besides, we didn't tell my dad either.’

He pulled a face, “I think I should be insulted by that comparison.” He smiled when Joey chuckled silently.

‘How did you know?’ He asked, trying to find it in himself to eat the pastry on his plate.

The consternation came back. “I... I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Your patreon. Actually.”

Joey raised his eyebrows, croissant halfway to his mouth as a smile slowly spread across his face.

“Alfred's a patron, I'm pretty sure,” He _was_ fidgeting now, and Joey _was_ going to tell Dick about it. It was cute. He nodded in confirmation though, he knew Alfred was one of his patrons. He all but demanded he be sent Joey's page after seeing one of his pieces in the background of a video call and asking what galleries he was showing in. None was apparently an unacceptable answer, it seemed. “He left it open on one of the family tablets then left that in the kitchen near the coffee machine. I think he was trying to tell me something.” Joey grinned around his croissant. That was probably the last plan after many subtle comments that Bruce had probably missed. “Your work is very good, by the way.”

‘Thank you.’

The barista returned to set their drinks down. Bruce smiled his thanks and Joey said his and she smiled nervously, signed stiltedly, ‘You're welcome.’

Joey beamed, and gave her a thumbs up and she grinned at him before leaving.

“She's sweet.” Bruce hummed softly.

‘Most people are sweet-' he paused, ‘Most people are good, overall. Bad ones are just louder, they make it harder to see the world for what it is.’

“Which is?” He asked, watching Joey thoughtfully.

He picked up his drink and sipped at it before answering, ‘Worth the effort.’

Bruce smiled, just slightly. He got another text and tapped at his watch. Joey figured it was probably Alfred again, making sure they hadn't gotten lost on their way over. He fidgeted with the croissant he'd only eaten half of so far. It wasn't bad, it was pretty standard for a cafe croissant, honestly. The coffee was nice, though. He'd have to try and remember this place if he was ever on this side of town again. Dick would like it here. Bruce shifted in his seat, looking at his phone, “They're moving now.”

Joey put the last bit of the croissant back on the plate and held his cup with both hands.

Bruce looked at him, “He'll be okay. Kal is following them, just above the cloud cover.”

He just nodded and sipped at his drink. Part of him wanted to correct him, it was smog, not cloud cover, but that was stupid. He was just stressed. Superman loved Dick. He'd never let anything happen to him. Not if he was watching for it. And Bruce had asked, identities be damned. If Dick had known his father would be ready to put their secret on the line, would he have called for Superman himself? Had he? God, he hoped not. Dick loved Superman dearly. He'd be heartbroken if he called and no one came. He brought his cup to his lips and startled when it was empty. He put it down heavily. More heavily than he’d meant to.

“Joey?”

‘Sorry, I'm just–'

Bruce gave him a sympathetic look, “Me too. We should get back to the hotel.”

He nodded and stood. He waved to the barista, taking her again and she grinned at him, waving. Bruce slipped a large handful of bills into the tip jar while she was distracted. He thanked her quietly as well as they slipped out the door. Joey smiled at him slightly, ‘That was sweet.’

Bruce just shrugged, “I don't need it.”

He smiled again. His phone buzzed and he checked it, it was Wally checking in and full of typos. He let him know the transfer was happening, that they were on their way back to the hotel. He bit his lip and sent a matching text to his dad.

_|Good. Blüdhaven General is a mess. Who's doing the transfer?|_

|Gotham Memorial’s team|

_|Even better.|_

A few minutes passed as he and Bruce made their way towards the hotel. His phone buzzed again.

_|Breathe, Joe. He'll be fine.|_

He smiled weakly.

|thanks dad|

Bruce glanced at him and he tucked his phone away, giving him a strained smile. When they got into the hotel Wally and Alfred were in the lobby waiting. Alfred turned to them, “We’re all checked out and ready to go, Master Bruce.”

“Thank you, Alfred. We should head back to Gotham so we can be there once Dick’s settled in.” Bruce hummed.

Joey moved to Wally’s side, squeezing his shoulder gently. He startled and gave him a strained, worried smile. “Hey.”

“Boys, do you want to come with us?” Bruce asked gently.

Wally nodded just slightly, “Y-yeah, please.” Joey nodded as well. Startled when Wally’s phone went off, he looked at it and grimaced, “Sorry guys, gimme a minute?” He gave them a grateful look when they nodded and Joey stepped away slightly as he answered, “Hey, Barry. I’m okay, yeah.”

Joey moved over to where Alfred and Bruce were. Alfred offered him a small smile, “Did you get any sleep, lad?”

He shrugged, ‘A little. More than I expected to, I think.’ He adjusted the backpack slightly, ‘What about you?’

“About the same, I fear.” He hummed.

He nodded as Wally hung up and came over to join them. “Hey, sorry. He was just checking up on me. I kind of… didn’t tell anyone I was heading here.”

‘Is everything okay?’ Joey asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Barry’s probably gonna stop by when he gets off work. I-if that’s okay?” He was looking at Bruce, who nodded.

“Of course.”

Wally looked relieved in a way that made Alfred shoot Bruce an unimpressed look and Bruce’s face twist with something like guilt. “Thanks. You know how he is.” He shifted nervously. Joey smiled wanly, reaching out to squeeze his arm. How Barry was, was a chronic worrier, especially in regards to his nephew. He was probably in a complete state, once he’d figured out that Wally hadn’t come home last night. Most of that phone call was probably Wally talking him down from running over immediately, like he had.

Bruce nodded again, “Tell him to come to the manor.”

“For dinner.” Alfred added, not looking at Bruce. “For the moment, the four of us should get going.”

Wally nodded, sniffled. “Yeah, of course.” Joey gave him a soft look, took his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back and smiled weakly.

“The carpark’s this way,” Bruce said, leading them off.

Joey kept hold of Wally’s hand as they walked. He was shaking, or at least Joey thought he was shaking, it was hard to tell with him. Part of having superspeed meant that whenever he shook it was so fast that it was easy to convince yourself you were imagining it. The wait must’ve been even worse for Wally. Joey wasn’t sure how relative speed really worked, he’d never had to possess a speedster and hopefully he never would, but it sounded awful to him. To experience everything for so much longer, moving so far ahead of everyone else, he didn’t know how they managed it.

When they reached the car (a far more sedate thing that Joey had been expecting. He didn’t know a lot about cars, though he knew enough to know that this one was expensive, it wasn’t an overly ostentatious kind of expensive. But he supposed it _had_ been Bruce who chose it and not Brucie), Alfred took the driver’s seat, giving Bruce a stern look that seemed to force the man into the passenger side seat with no argument at all. Joey and Wally slid into the back as Alfred reminded everyone of seatbelts. Four clicks sounded, Alfred nodded and left the carpark, starting home. Once they were on the road, Wally tapped his hand where it was resting on the centre seat, “Hey,” He waited for Joey to glance at him before he continued. “How are you doing? I feel like I’m falling apart, but you look…”

Joey smiled sadly. If Bruce or Alfred had heard him, neither of them indicated it. He shrugged, ‘You know what they say, looks can be deceiving.’ He shrugged, ‘I’m okay. Scared and stressed, but okay.’ And he was. He didn’t feel like crying, his breathing was even and deep and the only sign of how upset he was were the knots his stomach was twisting itself into, but even they were ignorable. Maybe everyone’s reassurances were actually working. Raven’s grounded reasoning and Bruce’s stubborn certainty and the knowledge that Superman of all people was actively present to ensure that if anything _did_ go wrong, he could step in. Hell, even Slade’s calm assurance had helped. ‘You’re allowed to fall apart, though, Wally.’

“You more than me,” He said softly, scrubbed at his face.

He frowned, ‘Wally don’t. He’s your best friend. You love him. And he loves you.’ He squeezed his shoulder, pressed his forehead to his temple before pulling back, ‘You are allowed to fall apart.’

He smiled weakly, “Thanks.”

Joey nodded, smiling softly before turning to look out the window. His eyes were drawn up to the overcast sky, somewhere behind the cover was Superman. Specifically there to look after Dick. It was a comfort. He leant back in his seat and closed his eyes. Blocking out the endless grey. It was just over an hour to Gotham. The transfer team had a head start. With any luck they’d be well and truly done by the time Alfred reached Gotham Memorial. Dick would be settled in and he could go back to sitting with him until he woke up. Joey wanted to be there when that happened. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. An hour wasn’t long, but it would pass faster if he slept.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof We're Late Again,  
> I am very sorry y'all I am trying to get my act together,

Superman was waiting for them at the hospital. He was out off costume, instead in jeans, a soft looking flannel and a chunky pair of glasses that spoke much more of the kind, warm, gentle man that Dick talked about than it did Earth's greatest protector. It was still very strange though. He and Bruce made a beeline for each other and met in the middle. Superman’s hands were in front of him, placating. “He's okay. Bruce, look at me, he's okay. They're stabilising him now.”

Joey's stomach clenched and his eyes widened. He wanted to ask but he felt like if he tried to raise his hands, if he moved at all, he'd lose all balance and ability to stand.

Bruce spoke first anyway, “Stabil _ising_? He was already stable.”

Superman looked pained, and a little guilty. “He was. But he crashed. About halfway here.”

He stiffened, “And did you-”

“I didn't need to. They got him back. They're just making sure everything's fine.” He rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and the man relaxed. Tension leaked out of him in a way Joey had never seen before. He wondered if that trick worked when they were in costume or if they had to wait until they could stop being heroes. He smiled, just barely, small and exhausted, “Where’s Alfred? And have you eaten?”

He grunted, “He’s parking the car. And I had coffee.”

Superman rolled his eyes, something like fondly. “Food first then.”

“I’m fine.”

“Wally? Joey? What about you?” He asked gently.

Wally fidgeted, glancing at Bruce quickly before looking back at Superman, “Alfred made me get room service.”

Bruce got the same guilty look he’d gotten before they left Bludhaven, but if Superman noticed it he didn’t acknowledge it, just turning his gentle smile to Joey. He twitched his fingers slightly, he still felt like any movement would result in him keeling over. Any calm he’d managed to curate was rapidly crumbling the more he thought about Dick crashing en route. The way that Superman had said that they’d gotten him _back_ , which meant that he’d been _lost_ and that was edging towards too much. Even though Dick was _fine_ and Superman hadn’t even needed to step in to save him and Joey needed to just calm down and answer the question, but his stomach was roiling and now his hands were shaking and-

“Joey got breakfast earlier,” Bruce said when Joey closed his fists to stop them shaking. He gave him a grateful look and Bruce inclined his head slightly.

Superman nodded, “Well, why don’t we check if you boys can sit with Dick while I try to make Bruce eat something,” He smiled and gestured for everyone to follow him. Gotham Memorial was a much nicer hospital than Bludhaven General. It was clean and bright, though it probably helped that they weren’t in the emergency department this time. Superman smiled politely at the woman behind the desk, “Hi, we were wondering if we could see Dick Grayson?”

She looked up at the group, her eyes catching on Bruce for a minute before scanning the rest of them, “I’m afraid only family can see him at the moment.” Wally stiffened next to him and Joey bit his lip. He knew that he’d be allowed in still, Dick had listed him as his ICE number on every form he could, just to make sure. But Wally had already hit that roadblock once and he squeezed his hand gently.

“They are family.” Bruce said swiftly, the voice of a stressed father and it brooked no argument.

She hesitated but nodded, “Of course Mr. Wayne. I’ll get you his room number.” She typed a few commands and then handed him a printout of the room number and how to get there.

He thanked her and handed it to Joey as they walked away from the counter. Superman put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, “We’ll be back soon okay?” Joey nodded and he smiled, moving his hand to Bruce’s shoulder to guide him in a different direction towards food. And, he suspected, to decompress and unload in a way that he couldn’t do with his son’s boyfriend and friend or his own father. Joey watched him leave, he really hoped that Bruce took whatever comfort the other man offered him. He’d had enough conversations with Dick to know that it wasn’t exactly in the man’s nature to accept help.

Wally squeezed his hand gently, “Where to?” Joey shook his head slightly as he looked at the sheet of paper before leading them to the lifts. He fidgeted with the backpack the entire way. His stomach was still rioting and it wasn’t going to calm down until he saw Dick. Until he heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor, saw the rise and fall of his chest. He didn’t care how many machines were hooked up to him as long as he was still there. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He needed to calm down. Superman wasn’t worried. Dick was okay.

Wally let go of his hand and squeezed his shoulder, “You with me?” Joey glanced at him, nodded. He smiled weakly, guided them the last distance to Dick’s room.

It wasn’t any easier seeing him the second time. He was so still. The bruises on his face had darkened, the abrasions had scabbed over and part of Joey was glad that he was asleep. He didn’t want to think about how much he must be hurting. But the heart rate monitor was beeping steadily and the ventilator was steadily breathing for him and he was alive. “At least the chairs are nicer?” Wally hummed. Joey blinked at him, looked around the room. He was right, the chairs looked plush and comfortable, it was bright and airy and clean, everything was white and pale mint and pastel blue and Joey wished they were anywhere else. He pushed one of the chairs closer to the bed and sat down. He heard Wally sit down next to him, “I’ll let the Titans know he’s here now. I wonder how far we can stretch the family only rule.” He mused.

Joey huffed a laugh. He was sure that Bruce would wave his name around until they let at least the original Titans and Roy in if they asked. Dick considered them family, anyway. Perhaps there were other benefits to having moved him to a city where the Wayne name opened so many doors. He felt his phone buzz as Wally messaged the group chat. He frowned slightly. He should message his dad, just to let him know they were okay. He bit his lip and pulled his phone out. He sent off a message and tucked it next to him. A couple of moments later it buzzed.

_|Told you|_

He chuckled and Wally looked at him questioningly. He bit his lip slightly, wondering if he should tell Wally about Slade’s visit. He wouldn’t react the same way that Bruce would, Joey knew that. But he didn’t like him, or trust him. Wally knew exactly what his dad had put Dick through. But he also knew how complicated things could be with Slade. Especially if Joey was also involved. He sighed, shifted in his seat. ‘My dad.’ he winced at Wally’s raised eyebrow, ‘He pinged my phone last night. Just cause he does that sometimes, the same way Bruce does. So, he snuck in to see which one of us was hurt, more than anything. But it’s civilian stuff and he’s… worried.’

He pulled a face, caught between disbelief and concern, “Joey… I know he’s you’re dad but–” He cut himself off when Joey put a hand on his arm.

‘Wally, please. I know my dad well enough to know when he’s lying to me.’ He sighed again, ‘Slade respects him, he knows what it takes to do this to him and he’s worried for us.’ He brushed Dick’s hair from his forehead, ‘When he came to the hospital, it wasn’t Deathstroke scoping out his long time rival. It was Slade Wilson checking that his child wasn’t dying.’

“By sneaking into the ICU ward after hours,” He raised an eyebrow.

Joey chuckled, shrugged, ‘Old habits, I guess. Besides, you can’t tell me Bruce wouldn’t do the same thing if he’d found out one of us was hurt by pinging Dick’s cell and finding it at Bludhaven General.’

Wally’s face screwed up. “Yeah, okay. That’s probably true. You told Bruce he knows?”

He scoffed, ‘No. He’s not as reasonable as you.’

He laughed, bright and loud and it startled Joey. He looked sheepish, both for the volume and the circumstances. His eyes drifted to Dick’s face, “Yeah, probably not when it comes to Deathstroke the Terminator, no.” Joey pulled a face at his dad’s full title. It was atrocious and he would and had said as much to Slade’s face. But he’d just pulled a face at him and changed the subject. Wally smirked, “You got something you wanna say about the name?”

He quirked an eyebrow, ‘It sounds like something my brother would have come up with when he was five.’

He snorted, “Maybe, maybe it was. Maybe that’s why he uses it.”

Joey chuckled. He doubted it, though. Slade’s sentimentality didn’t tend to surface in things like that. Besides, he’d been using the name long before the rest of the family had found out about his work and he wouldn’t have wanted to link them like that. And Grant would’ve been mortified and furious. Joey wasn’t sure if he’d ever found out that Deathstroke and their dad were the same man, even after he’d lost his voice. He gave Wally a sceptical smile and lapsed into silence, running his fingers through Dick’s hair.

The quiet didn’t last very long. “You don’t talk about him very much. Your brother, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention him.”

He didn’t look up from Dick’s face, shrugging slightly. He didn’t really talk about Grant, but he didn’t feel the need to. They’d never been close with each other, even before everything that had happened. ‘There’s not much to say. Grant was my brother, and I loved him, but he wasn’t always great to me. Plus he _also_ tried to kill the Titans.’

Wally winced, “Right, sorry.”

He smiled softly and shook his head, went back to stroking Dick’s hair. Most of his anxiety had died down now that he could prove with his own eyes that he was still in the land of the living. It had been swallowed by a soft, but smothering sadness. A steady ache that he knew wasn’t going anywhere until he saw Dick’s eyes bright and lucid and safe.

Time passed steadily. Wally had started fidgeting with his phone at some point, tapping his foot fast enough that you could easily convince yourself he wasn’t moving at all. Joey glanced at him, he looked antsy and like he was holding back. He tapped his arm gently and Wally looked up from what was probably a puzzle game. ‘Do you want to talk to him?’

His eyebrows knitted together, concerned, “You wouldn’t mind?” He smiled weakly when Joey shook his head, “Do you think he can hear?” the question cut off strangely and Joey could almost hear the aborted ‘us’ dying in Wally’s throat.

‘They say people in coma’s can hear when they’re spoken to, and that it helps.’ He glanced at Dick’s still face, ‘I can’t do that for him. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. As long as you don’t mind me being here.’ He added smiling softly.

“No, of course not, Joe. I wouldn’t… You wouldn’t ask me to leave, would you?” He nodded decisively when he shook his head, “No. I wouldn’t either.” Joey squeezed his arm and he smiled wanly. He shifted his chair closer to the edge of the bed and took Dick’s hand carefully, “Hey, Dick. I… feel kind of stupid but I’m just gonna power through it. Uh, Bruce moved you to Gotham, and you uh…” He cleared his throat and Joey went back to playing with his hair, “You flatlined again, but they got you back. Joey’s here, too. He hasn’t left you basically. And the Titans all send their love.”

He smiled softly and tuned his words out, watching Dick’s chest rise and fall and curling up on his chair. Wally’s voice was soothing as he chatted about the minutiae of his life. What Barry was up to, how Roy had been last time they saw each other, the coffee place he’d found around the corner from his place. He must have dozed off, because the next time he opened his eyes Wally was quiet. Tapping at his phone idly, he smiled at him when he sat up, “Hey. Feeling better?”

He smiled slightly, waved his hand in a so-so manner. ‘How long was I asleep?’

“A few hours. Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up. I figured you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. Joey smiled at him softly. It was a sweet thought, and he wasn’t wrong. He stretched at he sat up properly. Dick hadn’t changed, but Wally had moved his chair to the other side of the bed. Probably more out of nerves than anything. He’d probably moved the chair more than once, he’d always been terrible at sitting still.

He smiled, brushed the hair of Dick’s face, ‘No sign of Bruce, or Superman?’

Wally shrugged, “Supes messaged, said they’ll be by this afternoon, around lunch. Should be soon, actually. I’ll probably swap? I’m just–” He blew air out of his cheeks.

‘I told you last night, Wally, you need to keep moving.’ He smiled at him, ‘It’s in your nature. Like a shark.’

He threw a granola bar wrapper at him, “A shark is a terrible animal analogy for me.” Joey felt his shoulder’s shaking with laughter, as he batted away the next two food wrappers thrown at him. They both startled when Wally’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out to answer, raising an eyebrow at the caller i.d. “Cy? Yeah, Joe and me are here with him. What?” He looked around the room, eyes landing on the tv in the top corner of the room, “Yeah, we’ve got– Okay! God. Joey, do you know how to turn that on?”

Joey frowned, shook his head, ‘What’s happening?’ Wally shrugged and they both started looking for the remote.

“There!” Wally shouted as he switched it on, “What channel? Got it.” He flicked to some news channel and Joey sat up straight, holding Dick’s hand tightly.

The anchor was a pretty brunette woman, who looked somewhere between professionally distant and sympathetic. _“In other news, Richard Grayson has returned to Gotham City, but not in the way anyone hoped. The nineteen-year-old was transferred to Gotham Memorial hospital this morning after receiving treatment at Bludhaven General from an incident in the early hours of yesterday evening. Bruce Wayne has made no official statement as of yet, and all we know is that the young man is in a stable, but critical condition.”_

His grip on Dick’s too-still-hand tightened. This was… not unexpected. He knew that the news cycle in Gotham liked talking about the Wayne’s whenever they got the chance. Dick had often said one of the best things about living in the tower was that he’d left all of that behind. Same with Bludhaven. But they weren’t in Bludhaven and for some reason Joey was still finding things he hadn’t realised that would effect. He could feel pressure building in his throat again.

Wally swore. “I’m putting you on speaker.”

 _“Yeah so. Your hospital has a leak.”_ Cyborg said flatly, as the woman on the screen moved on to other things. Joey was glad she wasn’t speculating on what the incident had actually been. _“It’s all over twitter too.”_

Wally swore again. “What can we do? Scrub it?”

Joey felt a half-formed chuckle bubble up, perfectly able to picture the way Cy’s face was scrunched when he answered, _“Oh yeah, great idea. We use caped resources to scrub news and social media sites of information on an actual minor celebrity. That’s not suspicious.”_

“At least I’m suggesting something.” He mumbled sullenly.

 _“Do you know what happened yet?”_ Cy asked.

No one had told the Titans yet had they. Joey dragged a hand down his face. He’d told Bruce and he was certain that Slade would know before long, Wally and Amy knew, Alfred probably knew by now as well, but no one had told the Titans anything other than that Dick was still breathing. Wally was looking at him and he nodded. “His co-workers.”

_“What.”_

Joey screwed his eyes closed. He wanted to explain it himself. He’d found Dick, found the patch, knew the most about how they treated him. But this was a phone call. He shuffled closer to Dick, shifted to hold his hand in both of his. Pressed his fingers to his forehead while Wally spoke. “We don’t know the details of how or even all of the who, but Joey found a BPD shoulder patch when he found him. And they’re saying he quit a week ago even though _they_ suspended him–” He cut himself off and bit back a growl.

 _“His insurance.”_ Cy said softly.

“Yeah. We don’t know what finally tripped them over into attempted murder but it was them. Current theory is Cross and his cronies.”

There was quiet for a moment before Cyborg spoke again, _“So now what? Batman goes through ‘Haven’s underground like a dose of salts and everyone gets pissed?”_

Wally smiled, glancing at Joey. “Nope. Joey got him to promise to wait and follow Dick’s lead. Batman has been benched.”

 _“No shit?”_ He could hear the smile in Cy’s voice over the phone. _“I didn’t think that was possible.”_

Joey scoffed, ‘Overprotective, overbearing fathers who do honestly care but have negligible emotional intelligence and a habit for overstepping and worsening their relationships with their kids are, shockingly, not unfamiliar ground for me.’ He took Dick’s hand again while Wally laughed and relayed his message to an impatient Cy.

 _“Wow, Jer, tell us what you really think.”_ Cy grinned, stifling his own laughter.

‘You know what?’ Joey’s hands stilled when he realised Wally wasn’t watching. He was looking at the tv screen, scowling darkly. Joey looked up and pressed one hand over his mouth.

The pretty brunette was back, _“Breaking news now. Bruce Wayne has just arrived at Gotham Memorial hospital. We take you to our correspondent on the ground.”_

_“Guys?”_

“Screen.” Wally ground out.

Joey vaguely heard Cy swear but he was too focussed on the jostling camera, surrounded by other press as the person wielding it and the young man in front of it both fought to get a clear shot of Bruce and Superman as they forced their way through. It was cacophonous, every person holding a mic or a recorder asking as many questions as they could force past their teeth. Superman was doing his best to put himself between Bruce and the clamour, tossing glares and huffs and hands raised in warning where he could. Bruce just murmured excuse me’s and pardon me’s as he made his way to the door, resolutely ignoring every single invasive question he was asked. He made it past the glass doors and Superman paused on the threshold, _“You should all be ashamed of yourselves.”_ He glared at all of them before following him. The young man turned to the camera and opened his mouth but Wally stabbed at the remote, cutting him off.

 _“You guys are about to have company. I’ll let the Titans know what you told me and manage their reactions. We won’t come over until we get the okay from one of you, okay?”_ Joey smiled softly, feeling every inch as grateful as Wally sounds as he thanked him. _“Yeah yeah, you’re welcome. Joey!”_ He waited a moment and his head snapped up, glancing at the phone still in Wally’s hand. _“You look after yourself, okay? If this asshole gets too much send him home for a bit, yeah?”_

“Hey!” Wally squawked and he laughed, not even worrying that it sounded like a hiss. Wally smiled at him and passed on his thanks before hanging up on Cy just as Bruce and Superman came in.

Bruce, once again, grabbed the chart immediately, while Superman sighed and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, “So, there’s been–”

“We saw,” Wally interrupted, gesturing at the now silent tv. “Cy called.”

The man nodded, looked at Dick sadly, moving to rest a hand on his leg. Bruce was still flicking through the chart, even though Joey was sure that he’d read the entire thing twice by now, “We’ll be using the back entrance of the hospital for the foreseeable future. I was hoping to delay the media as long as possible but someone has loose lips.” He looked exhausted. Weary and scared and not at all like the Batman, leader of the Justice League and terror of Gotham’s underworld. He looked like a father whose son was fighting for his life in hospital. Wally stood to offer his chair before Joey got the chance. Bruce’s lips twitched slightly in gratitude, as he sat. He brushed his fingers through Dick’s hair with a level of gentleness that belonged to neither Brucie or Batman.

“We’ll have to think of a way to let the Titans visit without risking id’s.” Superman hummed softly.

‘I think Cy still has the tech he used to infiltrate Brother Blood’s operation, we can use that.’ Joey hummed. He was glad that Dick’s tendency to keep anything case related in the Tower was coming in handy. When the other Titans used to make fun of him for it he’d just shrug and tell them they should see the Batcave.

He nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Bruce?” The man just hummed and Superman sighed.

“Uh, Supes? Can I get a lift back to the manor? I should probably be there when Barry arrives.” Wally shuffled awkwardly.

He smiled, squeezing his shoulder, “Of course.”

He nodded, “I’m gonna grab some coffee I think, Joey? Supes? B?”

Joey smiled and nodded, Superman shook his head politely and Bruce grunted, got a look from Superman, hummed, “I’m fine. Thank you, Wally.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Superman asked.

He shook his head, “I think I want the walk, actually. I’ll be right back.” He vanished out the door and everything settled into quiet.

Joey moved to offer his seat to Superman but he shook his head, smiling gently. He settled back into his chair and moved to get his sketchbook out. He curled up in his seat and kept working on the sketch he’d started that morning. It hadn’t occurred to him that Superman would be able to sit in quiet like this. All of the stories that Dick had told him had been hijinks and games and sneaking out to go flying above the Gotham cloud cover without telling Bruce. But it made sense, because Superman was Bruce’s closest friend, and he got the feeling that one couldn’t really _be_ close with Bruce if you weren’t capable of just existing in the same place.

When Wally returned he passed Joey a coffee cup, and squeezed his shoulder. Superman smiled at him, “You ready to go?” He waited patiently as Wally watched Dick for a long moment before he came back to himself and nodded. He scrubbed at his face and squeezed Dick’s hand and said goodbye to Joey and Bruce and left the room, waiting just outside the doorway. Superman gave Bruce a look, “I’ll be back in a bit to see if you’re up for dinner with Barry, okay? If you’re not, I can fill in, so don’t worry. He’ll understand.” Bruce grunted again and he turned to Joey. “I didn’t get the chance earlier, but thank you. If you hadn’t acted so quickly…” He trailed off, his eyes drifting back to Dick’s face.

Joey moved enough to get his attention back, ‘I love him.’ After a moment he added, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you.’

He smiled again, sadder this time, “Don’t worry, you were trying to protect him, and you wouldn’t have known what my number is under on his phone.” Which was true. Dick had never told him any of the secret identities that he knew unless Joey _had_ to know them. And Joey would never ask. Never put him in that position. He nodded in agreement and Superman’s smile shifted slightly. “I should get Wally home. See you guys soon.” Bruce barely acknowledged him and Joey smiled in lieu of a farewell as Superman met Wally outside the door and they left. He curled up again and nursed his coffee. Bruce had taken Dick’s hand at some point, and he let himself smile at the small display of affection. He hoped that the man would stay this gentle when Dick woke up, he could use the reminder that Bruce loves him sometimes. He sipped at his coffee and went back to fidgeting with his drawing.

**Author's Note:**

> psst - come hang out with me on twitter @demigenderbaby -


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